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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673394">changeless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyripo/pseuds/phyripo'>phyripo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Multi, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:55:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyripo/pseuds/phyripo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eduard has no idea just how attractive he is. Nadzeya is exasperated. Tolys just wants to make him understand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Belarus/Estonia/Lithuania (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>changeless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I just.... really like this one, so even if it's too short for AO3 by my own standards, I'm slapping it on here anyway! Also because I literally haven't posted anything since February which is Sad :V  (I Have written stuff, go check it <a href="https://monabela.tumblr.com">here on tumblr</a> if you want!! There's uhh czechviet and icezea and other pairings that don't make much sense!)</p>
<p>FEATURING<br/>Lithuania - Tolys<br/>Estonia - Eduard<br/>Belarus - Nadzeya</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>

<p></p><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Let me get your hair.”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>At the sound of the familiar hoarse voice, Tolys turns away from the mirror, letting his messily gathered hair go.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Nadzeya pushes away from the doorframe, pulling the door closed behind her with one hand and holding the other out for the elastic he has around his wrist. Plucking it from his fingers, she steps into his space and sweeps his hair away from his face, thumbs brushing his temples.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“You look beautiful,” Tolys tells her, watching the corner of her dark lips tick up nearly imperceptibly.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re not so bad yourself,” she mumbles, as she concentrates on twisting his brown hair away from his face neatly, thin fingers cold as they touch his ears. She pulls a hair pin out of the pocket of her skirt and goes to clamp it between her lips before appearing to remember the lipstick, so Tolys takes it from her and holds it up until she needs it instead. Nadzeya hums a vague thanks, lips pressed together.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She doesn’t usually wear lipstick, he thinks, but it looks very nice on her, bringing out her eyes somehow. It also looks a little intimidating, but then, that is how Nadzeya likes it. And—well—Tolys would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it as well.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“There you go,” she mumbles after a minute, tucking a stray strand away and taking a small step back in the cramped bathroom of his apartment to survey her handiwork. At Tolys’s raised eyebrows, she nods approvingly, smiling again. Tolys turns back to the mirror. Nadzeya has twisted the hair along his temples into simple plaits that wouldn’t look out of place in a fantasy film, which he vaguely thinks Eduard might appreciate. It somehow does wonders for his overall look. He adjusts his tie and smiles at Nadzeya in the mirror. She inclines her head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Behind her, the bathroom door opens a crack, and Tolys sees Eduard poke his head around it, blinking between the two of them in the bright lights.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well, now I feel underdressed,” he says, fully opening the door and stepping into the small space. With a huff, Nadzeya turns and pushes herself up on the counter to make space for him. Her high heels knock into the cupboard as she crosses her legs at the ankles.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t think anyone will notice if you are,” she says, leaning back on her hands, which she precariously places between Tolys’s toothpaste and shaving cream.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eduard gives her a flat look, and she rolls her eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I just mean you’ll look good anyway, so don’t worry about being outshined.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You flatter me,” Eduard responds drily, in that way only Nadzeya can make him sound. It entertains Tolys to no end.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s just the truth.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>At that, he looks at Tolys, who can only shrug, amused. Eduard is wearing a suit in a deep turquoise with a black shirt, and no tie, and his blond hair is, as usual, flopping over his forehead in defiance of anything he attempts to do with it, but Nadzeya is right; he could show up in his pajamas and still not look out of place anywhere. It is to Nadzeya’s great exasperation that he doesn’t seem aware of that, but Tolys thinks it’s charming, in a very Eduard-<em>ish</em> way. He wouldn’t be the same if he knew.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Should I do something about my hair?” the man is saying now, leaning forward between them to peer into the mirror and apparently having taken Nadzeya’s comments as sarcastic, which is usually a fair bet with her, to be honest. The harsh light glints off the silver frame of his glasses as he pushes his hair away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“There’s nothing to fix,” Tolys says, getting a pinched look in return. He smiles softly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can’t show up looking like I always do when you two have made all that effort!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nadzeya shifts on the countertop until her leg is touching his.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Here’s the thing, Eduard,” she says, and he looks at her, their faces at almost exactly the same height, “I like putting in some effort every now and then, and you <em>could</em>, but you’re just really fucking good-looking. All the time.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eduard makes a strangled sound as if protesting that, sea green eyes flicking over to Tolys again like he’s asking for support.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nadzeya, you’re—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m <em>not</em> saying I’m ugly, or Tolys is, so you don’t have to tell me—” she glances at him too, quirking an appreciative smile— “I’m just saying neither of us is as damn handsome as you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She is right,” Tolys puts in, frowning when Eduard just stares down at the sink, hands gripping the porcelain tight. He would probably prefer to change the subject, and, knowing him, is trying very hard to think of something to say or an excuse to leave the room, but Tolys feels as though it’s important he understands what they’re trying to say. Eduard is very good at seeming very confident—and he <em>is</em>, in many things—but Tolys knows him well enough to understand it isn’t always true.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He went through similar feelings of having to hide his weaknesses himself, still does sometimes, but he got most of it out of the way when he was younger. It wasn’t pleasant then, but at least he’s good now.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t think,” Eduard starts, then blinks owlishly through his glasses as if he’s completely lost the thread.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What?” Nadzeya asks, obviously trying her best to sound gentle, which she, for all her talents, is not great at. Eduard seems to recognize the attempt, though, and smiles weakly at her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Just… I’m nothing special,” he says.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> “Now, I know <em>you</em> know that’s not true, Mr I-have-two-degrees-and-play-seven-instruments.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nadzeya.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And <em>even then</em>, you’re <em>still</em>—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tolys puts a hand on her thigh, stopping her in her increasingly loud tracks. She has leaned so far forward that she might actually fall over, and Eduard is narrowing his eyes at her defensively. They aren’t great at talking, the people Tolys loves.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She releases a breath, leaning away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Don’t think you’re nothing special,” Tolys says softly, meeting Eduard’s eye but not letting go of Nadzeya, who touches the back of his hand with cool fingers. “All of the things she said, and, I mean, <em>yes</em>, you are also very handsome.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eduard presses his lips together, frowning again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And there’s nothing wrong with that.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I mean, I… Thank you.” He sighs, loosening his grip on the sink. “I guess I just don’t really see it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We appreciate it enough for all of us,” Nadzeya says, then shares an amused look with Tolys. “Well, mostly me, if we’re talking attraction, I guess.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eduard huffs a laugh.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So do you think I should dress up? Maybe I should get contact lenses, really shock everyone.” He’s started leaning towards overly confident again, Tolys notes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You could.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m sure we wouldn’t stop you,” Nadzeya agrees, but her uncommonly gentle frown seems to echo Tolys’s thoughts. “That’s not the point, though. You’re… You’re just you, and you’re a dork.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>What</em>?” Eduard blurts.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I—” Helplessly, she looks over at Tolys, who still gets a little thrill at the trust placed in him by being allowed to take over when her words fail as they sometimes do.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“If you did all that,” he says, “you’d still be you, but it would be different. You’re always more interested in, you know, music or in research or in <em>baking</em> than appearance, and that’s the way you are, and the way we know you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And in those dumb fucking hamsters,” Nadzeya grumbles, and both Eduard and Tolys laugh. “Fuck off, those things hate me!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She actually blushes slightly, and Eduard touches her sharp cheekbone with the back of his fingers for a second, smiling.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And dork is a compliment,” she adds.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I know, Nadzeya. Thank you,” he says softly, looking between the two of them. “I think I understand. Somewhat.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Good.” Nadzeya pushes herself off the counter, landing gracefully on her feet and straightening her skirt. “We should go before we’re late—don’t you <em>dare</em>, Eduard.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eduard, who had grasped her shoulder and is leaning down, stills.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You can kiss Tolys, I am not ruining my lipstick.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You look great without lipstick too,” Eduard mumbles, almost petulantly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“But I like how it looks, that’s the whole point. Feel free to borrow it later, but you’re <em>not</em> ruining it now.” She twists out of his loose grasp, skirt fanning out around her legs, and exits the bathroom with a jaunty little wave over her shoulder, sleeves trailing behind her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sometimes I really don’t understand her,” Eduard muses, but he’s smiling.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She’s reached her heartfelt quota for the day, probably,” Tolys tells him with amusement. Nadzeya likes it when people don’t understand her, he thinks. Especially Eduard, who likes to understand everything, so they’ll probably never be done with that. Tolys will probably never stop being fascinated by both of them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eduard laughs, eyes bright.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s fair.” He looks down at him. “I like your hair.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thank you.” He touches one of the twists carefully, then uses the same hand to grasp Eduard’s neck and pull him down a bit so he can press a kiss to the corner of his smiling mouth. “I like you, too. Come on, we shouldn’t keep Nadzeya waiting.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eduard glances at the mirror, adjusts his glasses, and nods at his reflection before turning and leading the way out of the bathroom. Tolys turns off the lights behind them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I wonder if she was serious about borrowing the lipstick,” Eduard says absently. “I’d like to see it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And, well, it’s hard to disagree with that.</p>
</div>
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